


Voyaging

by cisco_donovan



Series: Janeway's Gift [1]
Category: Original Work, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Creepy, Deepthroating, Djinni & Genies, F/M, Face-Fucking, Groping, Office, POV First Person, Porn With Plot, Star Trek References, Undressing, cum on abs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28713117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cisco_donovan/pseuds/cisco_donovan
Summary: Jack is delighted when his signed photo of Captain Kathyrn Janeway arrives. After a little rubbing, a sex-crazed genie in the form of Janeway herself appears from the picture, offering a very special gift which leads to a depraved tour of the Starship Voyager.
Series: Janeway's Gift [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103153
Kudos: 1





	1. Janeway's Gift

I gripped the photo in one hand and squeezed my cock with the other.

Captain Janeway of the Starship Enterprise looked up at me from the picture. A hint of a smile flashed across her lips. Her hair, tied back into a high bun, radiated authority. Her red and black Starfleet uniform clung tightly to her figure, twisted at an angle allowing her silhouette to bulge around her breasts.

Kate Mulgrew’s signature was scrawled across it.

I closed my eyes, panting slightly in the dark room, stroking my cock over the picture.

I’d never really known I’d wanted to jerk over a signed picture of Janeway. When I’d ordered it - a second-hand ebay bargain - it was just a cool picture of my favourite Star Trek captain. But once I’d held it in my hands this morning, the only I wanted in the world was to cum all over it.

It had been an agonising day at work, waiting to get home and close the curtains and just enjoy this moment.

I dropped the photo onto the bed and cupped my balls. I stroked along my shaft, gripping it tighter and tighter. I imagined Janeway stretched out before me, screaming in pleasure as my cock stabbed in and out of her, her uniform torn open to reveal her big tits-

A tremor shook through my balls. I convulsed and twitched. I held my hand still and pumped my nuts and blew a thick load right over the picture, sticky white blobs clinging to her face and chest.

Thank goodness it had come in a simple glass picture frame - this thing was actually worth quite a lot.

"Feel better, Jack?," said a voice behind my ear.

I froze in panic - there was no-one here! I lived alone - and besides, the voice was familiar. REALLY familiar. Female, husky, mature. A voice laden with authority.

It couldn't be, surely. Surely? Captain-

I spun around and there she was. 

"Janeway," I gasped.

The woman flashed a familiar, all-knowing half smile, nodding her head slightly, eyes flicking to the soiled picture and back again.

“I prefer the honorific, 'Captain'” she smirked.

“Uh, of course. Sorry captain. Ma’am.”

“Still ‘Captain’.”

“Right. Captain. Um.”

I was freaking out. What the _fuck_ was going on?

Janeway walked over to the bed and picked up the signed picture of her. She wiped some of the cum off her face, then wiped her thumb on my bed.

She appeared just like in the picture: a close-fitting, but not tight, black suit, topped with red to denote that she was part of the command crew. Her hair tied back into that bun. Her eyes sparkling like she knows something you don’t.

And of course, she knows a lot that I don’t. Like what the fuck was happening.

Janeway stared intently at the picture.

"I've taken many forms over the years. An oil lamp, a ring, even a guitar. But this picture… Well, it’s taken me on an interesting journey.”

Janeway looked at me.

“I’ve never had a master quite like you nerds. You’re so excitingly perverted. So twisted. You can jack off to anything!” she said, waving the picture frame.

“It must be all those years of rejection and repression,” she mused. “The Romans never got half so creative.”

The penny dropped.

“You’re a _genie_?!” I blurted out.

Janeway fixed me with a gaze. With a horrible wave of self-awareness, I tucked my dick back into my shorts and shrugged on some pants.

“I suppose you could call me that.”

“But.. but why do you appear as _Captain_ _Janeway_?”

“You have a complaint?” she said, eyebrow arched.

“No! No, it’s just…”

“Maybe you’d prefer a blue, bearded ghost?”

“No! You look… well you look great!”

Janeway held the picture up and shook it.

“To corporealize, we have to first be bound to an object. Something that a human can touch and understand. And when we adopt a form, it makes sense to be something familiar, or comforting, or arousing.”

She tossed the picture on the bed and fixed me a look.

“I’ve found that arousal brings out the most fun in people.”

I sat on the edge of the bed. This was too much.

“So... I get three wishes?” I said, trying not to listen to myself.

Janeway laughed.

“Don’t believe everything you read in stories.”

“Oh,” I was pretty disappointed despite myself. I’d already decided that fucking her would be my first wish.

Maybe my second, too.

Janeway put her hands behind her back and started pacing around my bedroom.

“My power... my gift, is tied to your imagination. I actually can’t do much by myself - it’s only by connecting with cerebrals that I can spin up a realm in the Otherworld.”

I was lost.

“The other world…” I mumbled.

Janeway stopped and fixed me with one of those stares that I’d seen on TV for all those years.

“A parallel dimension. An alternate reality. A… dream, made real.”

“Holy shit,” I breathed. “What… what does that mean?”

Janeway sighed and snapped her fingers - and in the blink of an eye, I found myself standing in my office. My colleagues sat at desks next to me, tapping at keyboards. My boss, Ramona, stood by the whiteboard just across from me.

Janeway paced around the office.

“In the Otherworld, the rules of physics and the nature of consciousness are determined by a controlling agent. I can’t do it alone - I don’t have an imagination. All this,” she waved, “can be fabricated in the Other from your own desires and memories.”

“Wow,” I breathed. I looked across at David’s desk, next to mine. David was typing on the keyboard - but nothing was happening on the screen.

“What-” I began.

“Here in the Otherworld, time doesn’t really move unless you will it to.” Janeway explained. “It’s what we call a shallow reality. People talk but don’t say anything. They type, but don’t type anything. Water runs, leaves fall - but the world is essentially frozen.”

I watched David type for a few moments. If I wasn’t watching closely, I’d have thought he was behaving perfectly normally. He breathed, adjusted his position, pushed his glasses up his nose, stared around the office occasionally, typed almost constantly. And yet nothing actually happened.

I tried to focus in on a conversation between Imran and John, who I could hear talking behind me. They seemed to be talking perfectly normally, but I couldn’t make out a single word they were saying.

“That is… freaking… weird,” I said, feeling uncomfortable.

“Not as weird as stopping time completely. I’ve seen that drive men mad,” Janeway said.

Janeway walked up to Ramona, by the whiteboard, put a hand on her shoulder and gently spun her around.

Ramona was somewhere in her early forties, with red hair tied into a ponytail. She wore a smart black suit with a pearl blouse which hung loosely on her hourglass figure.

“And besides,” Janeway added, putting an arm around Ramona. “The Otherworld has advantages which will help you forget that stuff.”

Janeway reached out and squeezed Ramona’s breast. Ramona stood still and passive.

Now Ramona was tough. I’d seen her chew out upper management and misbehaving employees alike. I’d seen her cancel an interview because she said the guy got handsy. She didn’t take shit from anyone - but she was quite happy to let Janeway grope her boobs.

Janeway smiled.

“This isn’t your boss,” Janeway said. “It’s more like an image of her. And the only thing which governs her behaviour, more or less, is you. Come on.”

I stepped up to Ramona anxiously. She didn’t acknowledge me as I approached. Emboldened, I stood in front of her and waved a hand in front of her eyes. She didn’t react. I stretched two hands out to her chest and squeezed her tits.

They were softer than I expected.

I continued massaged my boss’s tits beneath her blouse, kneading them with my hands. My dick started to rise again - this was so hot.

But Ramona wasn’t the only woman here - and while I'd enjoyed a few thoughts about Ramona, she wasn't the one on my mind right now.

I reached out with my other hand to squeeze Janeway’s breast. Her eyes flashed with anger and she smacked my hand away.

“I think that’s enough of that,” Janeway said clicking her fingers and returning us to my darkened bedroom. 

"I guess you're out of bounds, huh?"

“Yes. What would you like to do now?” she said.

“I want to fuck your ass,” I replied.

Janeway sighed and hung her head, working her temples with her fingers.

“So much for nerds having imagination,” she said. “Listen Jack, I’m the only person here with free will. I’m the one who controls the Otherworld, subject to your whims. I’m the puppeteer.”

Janeway stepped closer.

“And you don’t fuck the puppeteer.”


	2. B'Elanna Torres Body

“That was CRAZY!” I said. “You just pulled that out of my head? And Ramona’s not going to fire my ass in the morning?”

“Yes,” Janeway replied. “And no. That didn’t happen to her. She doesn’t know it happened.”

“Sick,” I said, awed, looking at the picture. I picked it up off the bed and gave it a good wipe with a tissue.

“I, uh, won’t do that again,” I said apologetically.

Janeway arched her eyebrow in that knee-trembling way of hers. My knees trembled.

“So, if you’re, like, a genie or whatever - how come I could just order you on ebay?”

Janeway sat carefully on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs.

“The… abilities I offer you, the.. power I bring… it’s quite a lot for some people.”

“No shit.”

“My previous master almost lost himself to the Otherworld. It was… sad, really. He loved the Otherworld so much, the grim reality of real life grew harder and harder to deal with. He stayed longer and longer in the Other, living out his weird little fantasies.”

“He made perversion an art form,” she laughed, sadly. “Quite a mind.”

"In the end there was so little of himself left here in reality. Somehow he managed to find the will to, ah, wish away the temptation.”

“I was gone within an hour." Janeway added sadly, inspecting her hands.

“With great power, huh?,” I said. “So what else can we do?”

Janeway shrugged.

“That’s really up to you.”

“Can we go to Voyager?”

Janeway smiled and clicked her fingers. We stood in the engine room of the Starship Voyager: blue light filling the space from the warp core. Computer panels all around me blinked with orange and yellow lights.

“Here we are,” Janeway said, holding out her arms. “It’s good to be back.”

It was incredible. It was just like being in the TV show. Around me, yellowshirts were working on various terminals, chatting and working in that strange timeless, unproductive way of the Otherworld.

And the Otherworld could do frickin’ Star Trek!

“I am sure you’ve always wanted to find out what’s under Lieutenant Torres’ uniform,” Janeway purred seductively.

I turned around to see Janeway tracing a finger along B’Elanna’s shoulders. I gulped and nodded. Boy, would I.

B’Elanna, the half-klingon, half-human chief engineer of Voyager, was one of the less obvious beauties in the show. Voyager, at least until the arrival of Seven of Nine, had an almost frustrating level of modesty - which had the curious effect of making the slighest hint of sexuality a blindingly erotic moment. The very rare flash of B’Elanna’s arms, or catching Janeway in her nightdress, stood out against the hours of wooden chatter and dry technical nonsense. Emotion and should had been sucked dry of Voyager, so when something did occasionally stir, it hit hard.

And somehow, just the hint of B’Elanna’s muscular physique or the experienced domination of Janeway’s sexuality was more tantalising than hours of Deanna Troi’s cleavage. The nuclear bomb of Seven of Nine’s curves would change this dynamic, of course, but the subtle beauty of these other women still carried quite the pull.

I couldn’t tell you how many hours I’d spent wondering what kind of killer body B’Elanna was hiding.

“Lieutenant, off with your shirt,” Janeway said.

B’Elanna tucked her fingers under the hem of her black and yellow top, where it ran tight across her waist. She pulled it up and over her head in one smooth motion, leaving her in her purple-gray vest. Her black trousers hugged her waist tightly, emphasising her shape.

She dropped the shirt to the floor while I inspected her bony white shoulders, the slim muscle tone of her arms.

B’Elanna slipped her fingers below the waistband of her trousers and tugged them down, revealing her long, toned legs. She stood there in her short pants and vest, the same grey-purple couple, then hooked her fingers under her undershirt and started to pull it up.

“Wait,” I said, stepping towards B’Elanna, who paused and unfolded her arms, as if she knew what I was doing.

“Good,” Janeway said. “You’re driving, now.”

I put the palm of my hand against B’Elanna’s stomach, pressing against the warm fabric of her undershirt. I could feel the hardness of her stomach below. I gently ran my hand up the gentle curve of her breast, up and over her shoulder, down her arm. I stepped behind her and put both hands on her shoulders, feeling her skin. I squeezed her shoulders, kissed along the line of her neck.

I pulled her into me, feeling her body press against mine, then ran my hands around to her waist. I slipped my own fingers under the tight waistband of her trousers, took hold of the hem of her vest, and pulled it up over her body, over the narrow sports bra which held her breasts tight.

B’Elanna lifted her arms and wiggled her body, shrugging out of the vest as I raised it over her head and dropped it to the floor. A thin sports bra preserved the last of her modesty.

I stepped around to her front and inspected her body. Her abs were sharply defined against her flat stomach. Her grey-purple bra held her breasts tight, nipples poking through. I pressed my thumbs against them, teasing her hard nipples in slow circles.

“Is this for my benefit?” I asked.

B’Elanna suppressed a smile.

“Maybe,” she said.

I traced my thumbs down to her stomach and traced the hard lines of her abs. Fuck, she looked good. Lean and lithe muscle defined her belly. I pushed a thumb into her belly button, feeling her taut muscles strain against me.

“Let’s lose the bra,” I said, stepping back and hoping my boner wasn’t too obvious.

B’Elanna quickly pulled her bra over her head, her little b-cup breasts springing loose and bouncing as they fell. Small, dark brown nipples topped the tapered points as they curved slightly away from her body, small and firm.

“Holy shit,” I breathed, drinking in the vision of her.

I stepped closer and cupped her tits in my hands, squeezing them softly, rubbing the nipples between my thumb and forefinger.

I hunched down and sucked one of those nipples, tasting the slight hint of salt and rubberiness. Her breast was firm under my touch, toned and muscular.

I moved my mouth down to her tummy, kissing her skin, running my tongue over and between her abdominals.

What a fucking treat.

Janeway stood behind B’Elanna and put her arms around her, cupping her tits while I dug my tongue into her navel.

“I always liked this one,” Janeway said.

I couldn’t help it any more. I slipped my swollen dick out of my pants and started tugging it off, relief flooding through me as I squeezed it.

I stood back and jerked myself slowly while B’Elanna pulled down her pants, revealing a neatly trimmed triangular bush.

“So, wait,” I said. “How far can I take this?”

Janeway shrugged.

“It’s your fantasy - although you’ll find that there are some hard limits, some things people just won’t do.”

“Like with hypnosis?” I suggested, remembering something I’d read.

“Like with hypnosis,” Janeway echoed.

I stood and jerked over B’Elanna’s thin, muscular body, considering my options.

“Can I see you asshole?” I asked as nicely as I could manage.

B’Elanna turned around, stuck her butt out, and spread it wide with two hands. I nearly spilled my load right there as she just opened herself out to reveal her dark, puckered asshole and deep purple pussy.

“Oh fuck,” I said. I mean, what else do you say?

B’Elanna stood and wiggled her ass for a moment, jiggling her buttcheeks. I admired the deep line of her spine as it ran up to her shoulders, the hard edges of her shoulder blades as they worked to pull her ass back.

I kept jerking. Even here, in my fantasy, I was going to lose it.

“Sit down,” I said, nodding to a wheely chair against one of the terminals. B’Elanna obligingly lounged into it. I moved closer and jerked over her hard stomach. She stretched herself against the chair, pulling herself taught, flattening her tits.

“Cum on me, Starfleet,” she said. “Cum on my stomach.”

What could I do? I blasted out the biggest load of my life onto B’Elanna Torres’ muscular stomach, shooting thick blobs of jizz onto her abs. It ran down between the muscles, pooling in her navel.

I rubbed myself against her stomach as the last drops dripped out of me, then collapsed back against the terminal.

“Wow,” I said, admiring the jizz-soaked form of Voyager’s chief engineer.

"Interesting," Janeway said. "Your predecessor always liked to cum on the uniforms."

"Uh, can you not talk about him like that? Or, actually, at all?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Janeway said, concern shadowing her face. "Does that make you feel uncomfortable? Inadequate?"

"No, it's... it's just weird, OK? It's like you're comparing to me an ex."

"Fascinating. Well, whatever you desire."

We fell silent for a moment while I took in the sight of B'Elanna some more.

"So..." I began. "Can you do the other series?"

"Other series?" she asked, cocking her head.

"You know... DS9, Next Generation?"

"Oh, Jack," Janeway said sadly. "I can do much more than Star Trek."

Janeway snapped her fingers - and then things got weird.

* * *

The Duras sisters lay in front of me, dressed in metallic Klingon amour, black hair spreading across the floor. Their tits were squashed up in the window of their chest armour, round cleavage ballooning out of them. My cum lashed across the dark brown skin of first one pair of compressed tits, then the other, dripping between the cleft and slinging onto their armour.

* * *

Padme Amidala lay on the bed, her body lightly decorated with white lace, outlining her petite, toned figure.

"About time," she said, licking her lips and looking at me.

* * *

Chiana arched her grey-blue back, tossed back her head, her explosion of white hair trembling, and screamed. She straddled D'argo and bounced athletically on his cock. She bent right back over herself, facing me, so that I could see the hard points of her nipples poking above her chest. A tiny strand of saliva clung to her lips as she moaned.

She opened her eyes, looked at me, and smiled.

* * *

Buffy the vampire slayer stretched out across her bed, biting her lip and moaning softly. I looked down across her body, the thin vest covering her little tits unable to stop her nipples poking through.

Willow looked up from between Buffy's thighs, her tongue out, saliva dripping down onto Buffy's pussy.

* * *

I stared out of the window of the bus, watching the kids walk down the street, backpacks flapping.

Wait, I WAS the kids. I was on the school bus.

And there was Eve, short straw-blonde hair cut to her jawline. Eve was a big girl - not fat at all, but tall and broad. Well-built. She was better developed than most girls her age. A real entitled bitch, too.

I watched her walk down the pavement in a grey skirt and white blouse, the top button open, revealing pink skin at the top of her chest.

The blouse was thin and slightly see-through - I could clearly make out the black bra holding up her large breasts. I watched them jiggle as she walked, almost in slow motion. I noticed one strap had fallen off her shoulder and hung loosely over her arm.

I remembered this. I remember willing the bra to fall down, to reveal those beautiful big titties.

And it happened - like it never did in real life. The other trap slipped and her bra slipped down her torso, pinging off her breasts as they pushed at it. I could see the full curve of her boobs as she walked, the large, puffy areola, the pink pricks of her nipples.

Somehow she didn't notice - she just kept walking, moaning loudly about Mrs Smith, her tits bouncing freely.

* * *

I lay on a hard mattress. Omar leaned over me, his black, tattooed skin shiny. He leaned down and pressed his thick lips to mine, his tongue hot as it slipped into my mouth.

Wait, this wasn't my fantasy. Was it?

* * *

I was back in high school, behind the history block. It was a hot summer’s day. I looked down to see Anabelle and Finella, the twin sisters who'd moved to school this year. They knelt down before me, each with a hand on my cock.

They kissed, mouths open, tongues swirling in the air. A blob of white goop dripped between their mouths, landing on Annabelle's white shirt.

* * *

I was in The fucking Simpsons, watching Marge get double-teamed by Lenny and Carl. It looked just like the cartoons: their skin yellow and brown, marge’s hair blue, her dress crinkled around her waist, her round tits bouncing while she was fucked in two holes.

I looked down at my hands - they were yellow.

* * *

And we were back in my bedroom, a fresh boner straining impossibly against my pants.

"Can we do all that again," I said, "But slower?"


	3. Seven of Nine's Gag Reflex

  
“So you’re telling me,” I said to Janeway, trying to take it all in. “That I can walk into basically any scene I can imagine and do... whatever I like?”

“The more depraved, the better,” Janeway agreed. “Genies live a long time and get bored easily.”

She smiled at me and sipped her coffee.

“I help you live out your wildest dreams, and you help me keep boredom at me.”

“Seems like a good deal to me,” I said. There was really only one thing on my mind in that moment, though.

“Can… can we go back to Voyager? Can you do Seven of Nine?”

Janeway smiled and clicked her fingers.

-

I stood on the bridge of Voyager. The crew stood at their stations around me - Harry Kim, Tom Paris, Tuvok, all here. Janeway lounged in the captain’s chair, eyes fixed on me like a hawk.

“This is so cool,” I said, gazing around the bridge. I stood for a moment and just took in the sight, the sounds of terminals bleeping, the murmured conversation of the crew.

Seven of Nine sat on the forward control panel, clad in that skin-tight grey catsuit with a gentle neckline revealing her collarbones. Her blonde hair was pulled back tightly into that ferocious bun. She sat with her back straight, her voluptuous figure bulging against her suit.

I walked over to her and carefully put a hand on her shoulder.

“Greetings… sir,” she said, uncertainly.

“You can just call him Jack,” Janeway said, rising from the chair and walking over to us. “He’s my special council for today. His commands may be… unconventional, but you are to do exactly as he says.”

Jameway and Seven both eyed me up.

“Very well,” she said. She looked up at me and nodded. “Jack,” she said, then turned back to her work.

Janeway stepped a way and waved a hand over Seven.

I put both hands on her soldiers and stood behind her. I felt her tense up at my touch. My thumbs traced across the back of her neck.

I looked around the bridge, anxiously.

“What about them?” I said, eying the crew.

“Ignore them,” Janeway said.

I turned back to Seven and wrapped my hand around her throat. My fingers traced the soft lines of her neck.

“It’s so… realistic,” I breathed.

“That’s because it’s real,” Janeway said sternly, then smiled. “Just not in your reality.”

My hands crept up and traced around her cheeks, brushing over her full red lips.

“Is there something I can do for you, Jack?” Seven asked.

“Stand up,” I said. Seven raised an eyebrow and stood straight. She stood a little taller than me, her body swelling around her butt and chest. I traced a finger down her spine, then reached my arms around and squeezed her soft tits.

“Wow,” I breathed.

“Captain,” Seven said, twisting her head to look at Janeway. “Is this-”

“Carry on, Seven,” Janeway said.

Seven sighed and set her shoulders, her breasts sticking out a little further as I massaged them.

I looked around at the crew and pulled my dick out of my trousers. No-one noticed. I slowly worked it with one hand while feeling over Seven’s body with the other.

“She’s talking more,” I said. “B’Elanna didn’t say very much.”

“Because that’s what you want,” Janeway replied. “Fundamentally, you didn’t want B’Elanna to notice you, so she was unusually meek.” Janeway smiled.

“You’re feeling more confident so this reality is a truer reflection of your understanding of the characters. Things here reflect your desires, not hard reality. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that extra inch.

Janeway raised an eyebrow. I looked down at my dick, squeezed between my fingers. It actually did look a little bigger.

I walked around in front of Seven’s terminal so I could admire her from the front. I could see her hard nipples pressing against her catsuit. My dick hardened further.

I reached across the terminal and rubbed a finger across the hard nipple, jerking my cock.

“How do you take this thing off?” I said to Seven, casting my gaze over her catsuit.

“It is… difficult,” Seven said, eyes fixed straight ahead.

“Not for you,” Janeway said.

“What-” I started, but then realised what she meant.

I imagined Seven naked and then suddenly she was. Her large breasts sloped across her chest, nipples surprisingly dark against her pale skin. Her stomach was flat and smooth, a clean line down to her pelvis where she was completely hairless.

“Wow,” I breathed, jerking my cock hard, cupping my balls. As a teenager, I literally dreamed about this sort of shit.

Janeway rose and walked over to Seven and put a hand on her naked shoulder.

“Look, Jack,” she began. “I don’t want to kink-shame, but you can do a lot more than look and touch, you know.”

I continued to jerk over Seven’s body, but looked at Janeway questioningly.

“For example,” she said. “What if I told you that Seven here has no gag reflex.”

My hand froze around my cock.

“Open your mouth, Seven,” Janeway commanded.

Janeway opened her jaw and stuck her tongue out. Janeway pressed two fingers against her tongue and pushed them roughly into her mouth. Her fingers stretched to the back of Seven’s mouth, making wet gargling noises, hand pressing against her lips.

“See?”

Janeway wiggled her fingers against Seven’s tonsils. Seven held her mouth open, not moving. Her neck wobbled as Janeway’s fingers assaulted her palette.

“Well, shit,” I said. I pointed to the terminal between us.

“Lean here,” I said, tapping the terminal.

Janeway yanked her fingers free of Seven’s mouth, flinging a trail of spit over Seven’s lips and onto her chest.

Seven leaned forward onto the terminal, her tits swinging.

“Lower,” I said, tugging my dick.

Seven looked around, confused.

“Very well,” she said. She folded her legs into the low chair, kneeling in it, then leaned forward. Her forearms rested on the top of the terminal, her fingers gripping the edge. Her tits hung down onto the controls.

“Just try not to crash my ship,” Janeway said.

“Open your mouth,” I said to Seven. She obliged, holding her mouth open as she had for Janeway.

I pushed my own fingers into her mouth, rubbing against her tongue. Seven sat there motionless as I rummaged around her mouth with one hand, feeling her tongue, her teeth, twisting my hands to rub the top of her mouth. Seven took it all unflinching.

Saliva trickled out of her mouth as I worked my hand around, sloshing and clicking as I pressed against her mouth.

“Fuck,” I breathed. I withdrew my fingers and pushed my hard dick slowly into Seven’s mouth. I brushed it along her wet tongue, feeling the heat of her mouth. Clucking noises emanate from the back of her mouth as I pushed my dick against her tonsils.

Seven held her jaw open, but looked up at me.

I rolled my hips backwards and forwards, then held her head in my hands and started to jerk them faster and faster. I fucked her open mouth rapidly, pounding her tonsils, crashing against the top of her windpipe, splashing and sloshing in her mouth.

Seven gargled and spluttered as I rammed into her face, working deeper against her throat.

I pulled my dick out and a huge string of spit hung from my cock, clinging to Seven’s mouth and dropping down to the floor.

Seven worked her jaw.

“You appear to have confused my mouth with my vagina,” Seven said. “I do not believe this is a flattering comparison.”

“On the contrary,” I said, my dick hanging in front of her face. “It’s the highest praise.”

Seven raised an eyebrow sceptically. I thrust my cock back into her mouth and pounded it. Seven spluttered and started to gag despite herself, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

I fucked Seven of Nine’s mouth like it was a pussy, my balls slapping against her chin. Drool flowed out of her mouth, thick strands of spit falling to the floor, tumbling across the terminal.

I dug my fingers into her hair and yanked her head towards me, thrusting my hips forward at the same time. Seven spluttered and gasped as my cock penetrated her windpipe and rammed down her through. I ground her face against my pelvis, gasping, listening to the wet crackles she made as my mouth expanded her throat.

I pulled out, flinging spit everywhere. Seven coughed and spluttered over the terminal, then stood up. Spit fell from her mouth and dripped down her chest, running over and between her huge tits.

“That was… bracing,” she said, her voice a little hoarse.

“We’re not done yet,” I said. “I want to see your tits as I fuck your throat. Kneel down.”

Fair to say I was getting more confident.

I walked around the terminal as Seven knelt on the floor, back straight. I stood behind her and put my hands under her chin.

“Let’s see what this Borg body can do,” I said, pulling her head back.

Seven’s arms moved back as I tugged her head. Her back arched over and her hips rose u p and she bent back over herself into the camel pose, her thighs vertical, her chest horizontal and lined up with her throat, tits sticking up.

Standing behind her, her face staring up into my groin, I pushed my dick into her mouth and pushed it deep inside, forcing it down her throat. Seven spluttered. I watched her throat expand to take my meat as I pushed into her windpipe.

I worked slowly, grinding my dick into her throat, my balls hanging on her forehead. I put my hands on her big tits, massaging them as I thrust into her windpipe.

“Oh FUCK!” I gasped.

Her throat was tight, squeezing hard against my cock, and her tits felt amazing. I felt the tingle in my balls as cum rose up in me.

I tugged my dick out of her throat as Seven convulsed around me, coughing, and collapsed onto the floor. I gripped my soaking shaft and jerked it, looking down at Seven’s naked body and heaving chest.

But this wasn’t quite right.

I clenched my pelvic muscles, trying to hold the cum back. I imagined Seven’s uniform back and it was there, hugging her body. This was the Seven I’d seen all those years, the silhouette which haunted my dreams, the uniform which barely held its secrets.

Gasping and moaning, I fell to my knees beside her and blew my load over her tits, soaking the grey catsuit with blobs of cum. I panted and twisted and spurted the last of my seed onto her face. Seven barely flinched but closer her eyes as it blasted onto her cheeks and lips and clung to her hair.

“I stand corrected,” Seven panted. “THAT was bracing.”

She wiped cum off her cheek.

“Impressive,” Janeway said.

“Captain, Jack,” Seven said. “Permission to return to my regular duties.”

Janeway looked at me.

“Permission granted,” I gasped, then collapsed onto the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I phoned this one in a bit. Had to get it out of my system. I expect I'll come back to it one day!


End file.
